


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by Tarlan



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-03
Updated: 2001-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin decides to leave, but does not get too far before he realizes what--and who--he has left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the E-Day April 2001 'Wide Open Spaces' challenge.

This was what he loved, what he had missed. The wide open spaces where there was room for a man to swing his arms. It was clean and safe enough to take in deep lungfuls of the dry desert air without having to check over his shoulder first, ever watchful for an eager bounty hunter looking for the five hundred dollar reward on his head. There were no people here demanding he obey their rules for civilized behavior, and no demands made on his ability with a gun for a mere dollar a day.

Vin smiled, his eyes searching the distant horizon and seeing no sign of anything that could hurt a man, other than nature itself. He had been riding since early morning and now, with the late afternoon sun bathing the land in a golden glow, he found himself alone out here on the open plain. Just him, the thorny bushes trying to snatch at both him and at their own chance of life, and the animals that lived off the desert.

Alone at last.

Alone.

Lone.

Lonely.

The smile faltered, wondering at the strange turn of words in his head. He'd never been lonely before, had never missed the company of others. Least not since he was a small child and lost his mama.

Vin rode on a little further but at a slower pace, aware of every extra step he put between him and the town. Eventually he stopped, dragging the hat from his head and wiping the back of his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. Ahead of him was nothing but desert scrub-land although, in the far distance, he imagined he could see the foothills to the far away mountains where he had been headed. His plan had been to hole up in those mountains, living off the land and whatever else nature threw in his path. Living in quiet solitude, far away from the clatter of people.

Vin stopped, remembering the sleepy town he had left that morning and wondering why he should be feeling lonely. It wasn't as if he hadn't lighted out on occasion over the past two years, eager to renew his acquaintance with the peacefulness of Mother Nature. Vin swore softly, knowing there was a difference as wide as this desert between those times and this. On those occasions he had been slipping away to gain a few days of solitude with every intention of returning. This time he was heading out forever, with no looking back.

Vin looked over his shoulder, back in the direction he had come, then cursed his own foolishness at giving in to the urge, thinking back to his reasons for moving on. It weren't his fault that Ella Gaines had slipped away, weren't his fault that Chris had spent the past few months moving about the town like an old man who'd been knocked down too many times. Ella Gaines and that bullet had sent Chris into a deep well of self-pity and damned if he was gonna take another tongue-lashing from the miserable bastard. Who the hell did Larabee think he was anyway? Throwing his weight about like some self-proclaimed leader.

"I don't need to take orders from no man."

Vin spurred his horse onwards more viciously than he intended, gaining a snort of annoyance from the mean tempered animal and nearly getting himself bucked off in the process. He slapped his hand down on the thickly muscled neck, making soothing noises as he tried to ease both the horse and himself.

Damn that Larabee. Damn those green eyes that softened when they looked at him. Damn those clever hands that sent spikes of pleasure through his body with every casual touch. How the hell did he manage to get himself wanting like this? He'd never needed nor wanted nobody before. Not even Charlotte. She was a kicked dog that he felt obliged to rescue - until he realised that she had been kicking just as hard at the unfortunate man by her side; her own husband. And those dreams of running off to Brazil, or Bolivia or some other nameless South American country had quickly paled when he thought his friends might be in trouble.

Dang it. They weren't his friends. They were just men he'd traveled aways with.

"They don't mean nothing to you."

Don't they?

Their faces seemed to crowd in on him, each displaying some sadness at discovering he'd moved on without even saying goodbye--except to Nathan. Vin recalled the dark eyes full of sorrow as Vin gave him the wagon, and he remembered his parting words.

"Might as well take it, Nathan. Ain't gonna need it no more. Not where I'm headed."

"And where are you headed?"

"Ain't saying. Just need to be free."

Nathan would have told Chris by now, and those green eyes would have filled with shock, then hardened in anger. Vin could almost visualize those strong, agile hands clenching into fists as another part of the battered soul fell into darkness at this new betrayal.

"I ain't betraying nobody. I'm just moving on like I always said I would when the urge took me. And I don't owe you nothing, Chris Larabee."

So why did he feel so bad? Why did he feel so lonely?

Vin reined to a halt, feeling the increasing annoyance in his horse at this start and stop motion. Vin sat up tall in the saddle and gazed around as far as his eyes could see, seeing nothing but an empty existence all around him. He dropped his head, remembering the lively sounds of the piano as he played cards with six other men.

JD made him smile. His constant chatter, his enthusiasm and his loyalty never ceasing to amaze him. Some of the boyish innocence had been stripped away by the things he had seen since coming West, but the goodness at his core was still the same as ever. Vin grinned in soft remembrance. Playing cards against JD ought to have been no fun at all as JD had yet to develop a poker face. Even Casey could read him like a pack of cards so JD stood absolutely no chance against a professional like Ezra.

Nathan rarely played cards, but he liked to sit in and watch while he slowly sipped from a glass of whiskey. No one ever bothered to evict him from a seat at the poker table, probably because their games were more a reaffirmation of friendship than one of deadly competition. Far different from the tense games that Ezra played with strangers. Money would change hands during their friendly games and yet, somehow, each of them always ended up with exactly what they had started with at the beginning of each week.

Vin could hear Josiah's baritone, offering up little gems of wisdom that had been gleaned from one book or another as he shuffled the pack or stared at the cards in his hand. Some of the time Vin had been confused, wondering if the man had finally flipped over the edge of sanity and then, at other times, his words would reverberate deep in Vin's soul.

Conversation would flow around the table, even drawing him out on occasion. Sometimes even Chris would add a word or two beyond that necessary for a hand of cards, once stunning them with several whole sentences in a row on the merits of a good horse before falling back into that silent world he seemed to inhabit for the most part.

Vin found himself grinning at the memory, recalling the silence that had fallen around the table at this unexpected wealth of words from Chris. Then he remembered the time Nathan had asked Chris to defend his father at a murder trial, not needing to see the shocked expression on Chris's handsome face.

"Hell, Nathan. You know Chris don't say no more than three words a day."

It was said tongue-in-cheek but, the truth of the matter was that Chris tended only to speak when he felt he had something of importance to say. The rest of the time he pretty much kept to himself. Vin had often seen Chris with his nose buried in a book, playing checkers with one of the old timers, keeping his hands busy whittling something from a piece of old wood, or nursing a shot of whiskey or a mug of coffee near the back of the saloon.

In contrast, Ezra talked far too much but, every once in a while, there would be a diamond hidden in the bullshit, making Vin realize exactly how astute the gambler was. In the beginning, he had wondered why Ezra had stayed in the town. A dollar a day was a mere pittance to what he raked in at the gambling table, hardly worth collecting each week, and yet Ezra had stayed, had even risked his life for that single dollar. Vin swallowed hard, well aware that it was not the dollar that kept Ezra Standish in the town, nor any of the others. It was the friendship they had found there that mattered. The same friendship that Vin was throwing away for the sake of some wide-open space.

Each of those men had caught him; each man so different and yet each managing to snag a little piece of his heart and soul.

The largest piece of him had been caught in a vision of darkness sweeping across the dusty main street, the black duster flying in the breeze as Larabee stalked towards their joint destiny. Only the glint of light reflecting from the silver studs on the black leather gun rig drew any attention until a man was foolish enough to look up into that beautiful face.

How many men died because they were afraid of shooting an angel?

His thoughts traveled back to the day he had delivered some supplies to Larabee's little piece of land just west of the town. He remembered the sun-kissed blond hair falling over the perspiring forehead, the strong scent of clean, male sweat mingling with the perfume of wildflowers that wafted on the gentle breeze.

Vin felt his shaft hardening uncomfortably within his pants as he recalled the firm ass seemingly offered up to his approval as Chris bent over. He had wanted that ass so bad, had wanted to run his hands over the curve of muscle, to grip at the lean hips, to see his shaft disappearing between the imagined pale globes of the ass cheeks.

Fuck you, Larabee.

Vin lowered his head and groaned.

Yeah. I want to fuck you, Larabee. I want to sink into your body so deep and so hard that no man could tell where I ended and you started. I want to hold you so tight as I spill my seed inside you - and then I never want to let you go.

"So what the hell am I doing out here on my own?"

When I ought to be figuring out a way to get into them tight pants you wear, Larabee.

With a snarl of exasperation, Vin turned the horse about, heading back the way he had come, deciding to put in a few miles before he was forced to camp for the night. He knew he could be there before sunrise if he didn't stop to make camp but even he wasn't fool enough to ride alone at night. He sighed, it would take him well into the morning to get back to the town but that ought to give him plenty of time to think and plan out his words. Yet, Vin wasn't certain if all the time in the world would be enough to figure out a way to reach Chris. However, he was resolved to at least try.

"We got unfinished business, Larabee. And I ain't riding out again until it's done."

****

Chris glanced up as a familiar figure pushed open the batwing doors, back lit by the late morning sun. He waited as the man paused on the threshold momentarily, the keen, blue eyes searching the dim interior. Chris gritted his teeth, fingers clenching hard around the shot glass when Vin spotted him and strode purposefully towards him, but Vin was unfazed by the dark scowl aimed towards him, raising Chris's black mood yet another notch.

How dare the man just walk out on him without so much as a goodbye, and then expect to just walk back into his world as if nothing had happened.

Chris resisted giving into the petulance he felt, telling Vin he was unwelcome at his table. Instead he offered up another glare, hoping that would be enough to deter Vin but Vin pulled out the seat beside him and sat down, the blue eyes holding his own devoid of any emotion. Neither of them spoke. Normally that would not be a problem as neither was that talkative at the best of times but, today, the silence was like a huge black chasm gaping between them with no bridge in sight. The tenseness in the air surrounding them seemed to radiate outwards through the saloon, the few patrons deciding, suddenly, that they had drunk enough whiskey and played enough cards for one day. The numbers inside the saloon dwindled until there was just Chris, Vin and a man already too drunk to notice the exodus.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

"You saying I ain't welcome?"

Chris glared at Vin, seeing an equal hardness that had turned the normally soft blue eyes into chips of sapphire. In that instant, he realized that whatever had brought Vin back was no mere whim. That hardened look told him that Vin had business to attend to and would not leave again until it was accomplished. The only question now was, what had fired up the man, turning him from the normally laconic, easy-going tracker into this stone-faced, strong-willed hunter?

"We need to talk, Chris Larabee."

"Then talk, or go."

"Not here. Thing's I want to say ain't for just anyone's ears."

Chris glanced, pointedly, around the empty saloon, ignoring the drunk who had collapsed across the tabletop some distance away. He gave Vin a mock smile that raised just one corner of his mouth.

"Don't see any ears around here except them pointy ones on your head."

Chris had the satisfaction of seeing Vin redden, well aware that was why the man kept his hair longer, to keep his ears hidden, but then he felt a little guilty about throwing Vin's private confession back in his face. Vin had told him how he got called names like elf and pixie as a kid, hurtful names that were accompanied by thrown sticks and stones.

Damned if I'm gonna apologize though.

His lips tightened and he stared at Vin defiantly, and saw the hurt soften into a smirk.

Damn the man.

There were times when he hated this connection they had, the way Vin could see through his glares and words. His fingers tightened around the shot glass as Vin leaned forward, his words soft and low.

"Know I hurt you, cowboy, and you feel the need to strike back. Know I need to do some explaining to you. But not here."

Chris stared hard, refusing to acknowledge the truth of Vin's words and yet knowing when he was beaten. Vin had this knack of finding a way under his raised defenses--and he was right on all accounts. Chris did feel hurt; he did want to hit out at Vin in return and, just because there was only one drunken man sharing the room with them, it didn't mean there weren't others hovering out of sight, eager to hear what transpired between them. It was better to go somewhere far from the town so if things got out of hand, if harsh words were said or they came to blows, then there was no one else about to take advantage of either one of them.

"I'll get saddled up."

"Already saddled and waiting outside."

"Mighty sure of yourself, Vin."

Vin gave that half-predatory smile but, fortunately, did not give in to any temptation to wink at him, as if realizing Chris was not in any mood for playing games and was just as liable to shoot him.

****

They rode out of town side by side and yet with enough distance between them to allow for all five of their colleagues to ride between them. Not that any of the five had deigned to join them, all aware that this was something Chris and Vin had to work out alone. However, the gap was a physical reminder of the rift that had formed between them, a wide-open space like the plain they were now crossing.

They had been riding for hours, both too mule-headed to break the silence and Vin began to wonder if Chris would just keep on riding by his side forever, without breathing a word. It was a fanciful notion but for all the wrong reasons. He wanted Chris by his side, but not as this dark, brooding shadow. He wanted the Chris Larabee that looked at him with stormy green eyes full of some emotion other than rage. He wished he understood the reason for this rage. He had some fanciful notions, that there might be more to it than just his leaving without saying where he was going, or why.

Eventually, Vin reined to a halt, staring in a circle about him, seeing nothing but the flat desert scrub-land for miles in every direction. He could hear the snort and nicker coming from the horses but still only silence from Chris.

"Figure we'd camp here."

"In the middle of nowhere?"

"Know a better place to have a talk?"

"Fine. Then start talking."

"Reckon we should set up camp first."

Fire flashed from the green eyes. "Why? Ain't staying here."

"If you ain't the orneriest sonuvabitch I ever did meet..."

Vin sealed his lips into a tight line, aware that angry words would gain him nothing except the sight of that black duster flapping in the breeze as Chris turned his horse and rode off back to town. Vin stepped down from his horse and started to untie his bedroll, the saddle following soon after, dropped almost carelessly onto the dusty ground in Vin's anger. Vin glanced up at the exasperated sigh that escaped Chris, covertly watching as the lean figure dismounted with stiff movements that were not all due to the hours spent in the saddle. Chris was radiating his continued wrath in black waves, his eyes sparking green fire at Vin.

Silently, they prepared the camp, collecting dead branches of shrubs and starting a small fire. Not long after, the smell of brewing coffee was filling the cooling air. By the time the coffee was ready to pour into beaten tin mugs, the sun had become a large orange disc sitting on the edge of the world, casting an eerie glow across the flat land. When the sun dipped below the horizon, the temperature plummeted with it, darkness falling just as swiftly leaving only the red, yellow and orange glow from the campfire to keep the deepening shadows at bay.

Vin lowered his head, hiding beneath his cavalry hat as he gave a small smile to himself. Chris's temper had lessened as they set up the camp and then sipped on the thick, black coffee, just as he had hoped it would. The smile dropped away when he realised it meant the time was fast approaching for him to start talking and, despite their strange rapport, he was unsure how Chris would take his revelations. Part of his reasoning for bringing them to this lonely place in the middle of nowhere was to protect Chris, should the man decide to shoot him.

Yeah, sure.

Vin gave a mental sigh of exasperation, knowing Chris was too honorable a man to kill him and then hide his body. For once he was glad he had a five hundred dollar reward on his head that said dead or alive as it meant Chris wouldn't hang for killing him. He glanced back across the fire at the silent man, seeing the shadows dancing across the handsome face as the licks of flame flickered between them. Chris's eyes were shadowed, just a glint of light reflecting back from them when he raised his eyes from his coffee mug to check on Vin every once in a while.

So. How we gonna play this, cowboy?

Vin had hoped Chris might have mellowed enough to give him the opening he needed but it looked as though he was going to have to start this talk while Chris was still fueling his anger. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and eyed the silent figure opposite, knowing that he had Chris's attention even though Chris made no indication.

"Been feeling roped in. Been missing the open sky, the sounds of nature. Gotten to be too many people in the town, with more arriving every day." Vin looked up into the expressionless face, hoping to see some sign of a thaw. "Decided it was time to move on."

"So why did you come back?"

Vin swallowed hard. Trust Larabee to go right to the crux of the matter. Vin had hoped they might spend a little time talking about the town, about the ever increasing number of settlers passing through that brought their own share of trouble with them. He had a feeling that what Chris wanted to ask was why he had left without saying goodbye, but knew that would be opening Chris to questions on why he cared that Vin had gone on alone without telling him.

Vin rapidly thought of and then discarded several possible answers, finally settling on a single word of truth that answered both the question Chris had asked and the one that lay unspoken.

"You."

"Me?"

Chris sounded stunned by that response and Vin raised an eyebrow in equal surprise and annoyance. The fact that he had ridden into town, saddled up Larabee's horse then gone looking for only him, dragging him all the way out here into the middle of nowhere must have made it pretty obvious that he was the reason for Vin's return. Imagining the hurt in those eyes had been the reason why he had not said goodbye.

"Yeah. You."

"You came back to town, and you brought me all the way out here, just to say goodbye?"

Vin closed his eyes for a moment, realizing he had come to the moment of truth--and, possibly, the last minute of his life. He spoke softly, voice low and even.

"Goodbye ain't what I had in mind."

Vin watched Chris carefully. He could almost see the wheels turning in his head as Chris tried to make sense of what Vin had just said, but it was obvious from his expression that he had not got a clue.

"Vin. If you ain't saying goodbye then why did you drag me out here?"

"Want you to come with me."

****

It wasn't what Chris had expected to hear and yet, somehow, he felt he ought to have realised sooner. Perhaps if he had not spent the past few hours still wrapped in the black mood that had settled over him like a shroud when he realised Vin had gone for good, then he would have figured it out for himself. Why else would Vin want to talk in private except to discuss the bounty on his head?

"This about Tascosa?"

He remembered when they first met, and the promise he made to accompany Vin to Tascosa to help him clear his name. Chris frowned as he thought over all the incidents occurring in the previous week, trying to figure out if there had been anything in particular that might have spooked Vin. There were the usual run-ins with drunks, an incident of rustling where one of the local ranchers had accused the latest batch of settlers of making off with some livestock, and then there was the enraged husband who had found his wife in bed with Buck.

All in all though, there was nothing that seemed threatening to Vin unless...

"One of them settlers recognize you?"

"This ain't about Tascosa."

"No? Then where're we headed?"

Vin glanced up in shock. After the long years in self-imposed exile, wandering from town to town, seeking out the ones who murdered his family, he thought Chris had found another place he could call home. He had considered reminding Chris about Tascosa on several occasions but had always shied away, expecting Chris to come up with excuses about how he had started to put down roots in the town. Vin thought about the shack Chris had built with his own hands, recalling the number of times he had sat on one of Chris's rough-hewn chairs, feet warming against the pot-bellied stove while the elements raged around them. Chris had shared his roof on cold wintry nights and also during summer rain and dust storms, never once turning him away, even when he arrived at his door unannounced.

Strangely enough, if Vin had to call one single place home then Chris's shack would be it, but the truth was that it was only a home while Chris was there. At any other time it became just another rough built shelter in the middle of nowhere. Could Chris feel the same way about the shack? Was it a home, or was it just a place to escape to when the pressure of being in a town full of people became too much even for Chris?

He frowned, remembering that Chris had been willing to give up that shack to be with Ella Gaines. He shook his head, wanting to push that memory aside, not wanting to think about the bitch whose hired guns had almost ended Chris's life. Anyway, Chris would have been giving up that shack and a few square miles of land for a beautiful horse ranch. Still, he began to wonder if Chris might be misunderstanding him.

"Ain't talking about heading out just for a few days."

"I know."

Vin frowned. There was sincerity in the words, and understanding but Vin could hardly believe it. After all, he wasn't offering Chris a white-painted house and a corral full of prime horseflesh.

"You'd leave it all behind? The town? Your shack?"

Vin stopped, wondering if it had been a trick of the firelight flickering across the handsome face or whether he had see the stone-face crumble a little in annoyance, or uncertainty - or in fearful acceptance.

Are you afraid of me, Chris?

"So. Where're we headed?"

There was no trace of any uncertainty, annoyance or fear in the soft voice that drifted across the fire, leaving Vin to believe he had truly imagined seeing something else.

"Figured we'd head for the mountains. Stay there till the spring. We could find some place to hole up through the winter; a cave, or build us a tepee. Stock it with dried fish and meat to last through the winter." Vin looked across at Chris coyly. "Ain't a bad tracker ya know."

He noticed that, although Chris smiled, it wasn't one filled with enthusiasm and yet there was still acceptance there--for all Vin proposed. Vin saw the tip of a tongue sneak out to cross the lower lip, seeing the lip glisten in reflected firelight.

"Any ladies in them mountains?"

For once, Vin could not read anything in the fire lit features, the green eyes were black shadows, and the lips still slightly parted, awaiting his answer. Vin knew his little fantasy trip had come to an abrupt end, and he forced down his disappointment.

"Not a one."

"Just you and me."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Vin felt the blood pool in his chest as his heart stopped beating. When it started again, his heart was racing, veins filling with rushing blood, much of it going south leaving him light-headed. The face across the fire remained unchanged, leaving Vin in doubt once more. Had Chris understood what Vin was saying, accepted what Vin wanted from him? Or did he believe they were going to just ride together, hole up together, same as ever? Vin needed to know, he groped around his mind for the right words, wishing he had some of Josiah or Ezra's eloquence. His words were forestalled by a soft whisper.

"Ain't never done it with a man before. Figure it'd be all right with you."

His head started to spin and Vin gasped. Chris had understood after all. Suddenly, he felt braver than he had ever felt before in his life, brimming over with quiet confidence and inner joy. He grinned at the uncomfortable looking man, realizing how much it must have taken for Chris to admit this to him.

"You trust me?"

A slight nod of the head was the only response but Vin knew the question had been unnecessary. Chris had already offered up that trust, placing himself into Vin's safekeeping, allowing Vin to take the lead in this and to set the pace.

"Then come over here and I'll show you how it's done."

There was a moment of hesitation before the long figure unfolded itself, like darkness rising from the ground. Chris drew the flat-brim hat from his head, dropping back to the dusty ground, and the darkness seemed to burst into the colors of a beautiful sunset with red, orange and yellow dancing through the sun-kissed hair. Half-forgotten sermons about the Angel of Death floating through his head as this vision moved silently towards him. He grinned when Chris faltered, turning back to lean over and snag one corner of his own blanket, drawing it to him like a child with a security blanket. It destroyed the image of avenging angels leaving something far softer and yet infinitely more precious in its place.

Vin raised a hand towards Chris, thankful he'd had the foresight to spread his bedroll wide this night. He waited while Chris took the few remaining steps around the fire and reach for his offered hand. Vin closed his fingers around the warm hand, drawing Chris closer, encouraging him to sit down beside him.

Seated so close, Vin could read the nervousness in the bright eyes, could feel the rapid pulse beating beneath his fingertips, and he could hear the ragged, shallow breaths that fell in almost silence from the parted lips.

"You do trust me?"

"Yeah."

Even so, Vin noticed the way Chris flinched slightly as his fingers moved to touch the burnished gold of the hair, pushing the long strands back from Chris's face. He could understand why. Not only was this new to Chris but he must have already felt the bitter taste of betrayal when Vin had ridden off without him. Vin realised the magnitude of what he had done and he was grateful when he realised Chris had understood his reasoning, and had accepted and forgiven him, willing to trust him again.

"Ain't gonna hurt you, cowboy."

His fingers entangled in the hair at the back of Chris's head, drawing him forward, brushing lips against lips. Chris pulled back quickly, eyes widened in surprise.

"Kissing ain't just for women, Larabee."

Vin pulled Chris back, tongue sliding between the parted lips, the taste of strong coffee, the staleness of a cheroot and the uniqueness that was Chris bursting across his taste buds. He moaned into the welcoming mouth, enjoying the giddy sensation of having his caresses reciprocated. They pulled apart, each breathing heavily, eyes shining with desire.

"Damn, Larabee. If I'd have known you was such a good kisser I'd have..."

"Talk too much, Tanner."

Vin moaned in appreciation as a talented mouth settled over his once more, welcoming the invasion as tongues twisted and licked, sparring together as they tasted every millimeter of each other. Finally they dragged themselves apart, gasping for air.

"So how do you wanna do this, Vin?"

Vin smiled as he looked into the flushed face, seeing the brightness of the firelight gleaming in the lust-darkened eyes. There was an edge of fear in the expression that he could see Chris was trying to suppress and, momentarily, Vin was overcome by the level of trust offered. He knew Chris would go along with whatever he suggested, placing himself willingly into Vin's hands. Although he itched to know Chris completely, inside and out, longing to sink his flesh into the heat of the beautiful body, he realised it was a pleasure he would have to save for another time. This first time they would go slow and easy, allow Chris to adjust to the idea of being touched by another man. If he didn't spook Chris then the rest would follow in time.

Vin leaned forward, placing both hands onto Chris's chest, palms facing down, feeling echoes of the rapid heartbeat filtered through the layers of clothing. He slid his hands outwards beneath the edges of the duster, drawing the material aside, pushing it back from the broad shoulders. He gave Chris a questioning look, his smile growing when Chris got the message and started to shrug out of the duster, letting it fall to the ground behind him. Vin shrugged out of his buckskin coat, shivering at the coolness of the evening air upon his back. He turned until he was side-on to the fire, encouraging Chris to sit facing him then he leaned in once more, lips seeking their mate even as his hands reached for the lean figure. His fingers teased the buttons of the black shirt apart, slowly exposing Chris's well-defined chest, his eyes encouraging Chris to reciprocate. Vin smiled when it became obvious that Chris was a little nervous, his normally deft fingers fumbling, his teeth chewing on his lower lip in an innocent gesture that only served to make Vin's heart beat faster.

It was strange turnabout for Vin. In the past he had always been the inexperienced one, allowing other men to make the moves but now, this time he was in control - and it felt so good. Vin knew that most of that good feeling came from the fact that this was not some nameless man seated opposite him. This was Chris. His Chris--or, at least, he hoped that would be the case.

The cold was even more apparent as they removed their shirts and Vin could see goosebumps rising on the parts of Chris's skin that were away from the fire. He had wanted to take this first time real slow, wanted to savor the pleasure of seeing flesh revealed, one inch at a time, but the chill in the air was making that impossible. Vin decided to give up on his fantasy of unbuttoning the black pants and tugging them over the firm ass and narrow hips, then down the lean thighs. Instead, he checked his bedroll was still laid out straight and started stripping off his boots.

"Too cold to take it slow. Let's just strip and get under these blankets."

Chris grinned back at him, hands moving to pull off his own boots. They stripped quickly then threw themselves under the blanket, his wariness at being in such intimate contact with another naked man forgotten in the need to find warmth. Chris burrowed into the welcoming arms, feeling them slide around him, drawing him against the smooth chest. It was a strange sensation, the lack of familiar bumps, and the firmness of muscle where his body expected to find softness, and yet, it was a good sensation. His body seemed to believe so as he felt the warmth flood through him, both inside and out. He froze when he felt something long, thick and hard poking into his stomach, and rubbing against his own engorged flesh.

Realization flooded him, dragging him from the dream into the reality. This was Vin lying beside him, not Maria, and not some nameless female whore he'd bought for an hour in Purgatorio or Wicks Town. This was a man he'd trusted with protecting his back from the moment their eyes met across a dusty street. Could he trust him with his heart as well?

Chris moaned as a warm hand snaked between their close-pressed bodies, fingers wrapping around his aroused shaft. The fingers seemed to open wider, encompassing both their erections. He felt the hand sliding along both shafts, could feel the increasing pulse against the cheek that was buried into Vin's neck. He could hear the quickening breaths, interspersed the soft moans that mirrored his own. His own hand reached between them of its own volition, wrapping around Vin's fingers and flowing with them along the length of their jointly held shafts.

The pungency of male sex filled the air as those fingers increased speed, but Chris was unaware of the heat that splattered between them, his own climax overtaking him, his life essence mingling with Vin's.

Soft lips nuzzled against his sweat-dampened hair and he raised his face so he could claim those lips with his own. The kiss was less intensive than before but infinitely more tender; the caress of lovers rather than a ritual motion of satiated sex-partners. Sticky fingers stoked his face as they kissed, the heady scent of spilled semen almost overpowering. His own hand was stroking the length of the lean body, gliding over the silky flesh from rib to thigh.

Vin pulled away from their kiss, nuzzling deep into his throat, his tongue and lips licking, sucking and nipping gently and Chris knew Vin was leaving a path of raised welts on his throat but he didn't care.

Soft murmuring reached him as the sound of blood rushing through his body lessened. He smiled, all remaining fear dissipating as sweet assurances and endearments were whispered in the dark.

The hard ride and the heavy emotions of the day finally won out. With their bodies satiated, both men found the lure of sleep impossible to resist, slipping away in to sweet dreams, still curled in each other's arms.

****

The heat rose with the sun, the new day promising little respite for either man. Vin kissed Chris soundly before pulling away, reaffirming his lack of regret, sitting up to watch the sun rise over the wide open plain.

Vin glanced back as the first rays ignited the spun-gold in his lover's blond-streaked hair, mesmerized by the flickering of long blond lashes, of the soft pout of lush lips as Chris stirred.

Last night he had held an image of Chris as the angel of death but today, his ravished lover was a fallen angel, all tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips curving into a contented smile. The green eyes opened, casting a dreamy expression on the angelic face before his features contorted into pain.

"Shit."

"What's up, pard?"

Vin looked at his lover with concern, seeing the lines of pain around Chris's eyes.

"Got too used to soft living. Not used to sleeping on the hard ground anymore."

Vin sighed in partial relief then moaned in appreciation as Chris stood, watching as he tried to ease the stiffness with a series of long stretches. He had never seen Chris naked, least not in full sunlight - and certainly not in this uninhibited display. His eyes roamed the length of the ivory skin, admiring the ripple of muscle flexing and contracting with each stretch. His fingers itched to capture the firm, pale globes and, for a moment, he wondered what Chris's reaction would be if he prised apart those ass cheeks and stroked his tongue along the hidden length, riming the tightly muscled entrance to his own idea of heaven.

The moment past as Chris turned and dropped back down on the blanket beside him.

Vin wished they could explore each other some more but the heat was already climbing and he knew they ought to get dressed and eat before it became too uncomfortable. Chris gave him a small look of regret, and Vin could see that he had identical thoughts.

Damn. Vin thought angrily. He'd wanted the wide open spaces but, to be honest, if they were in Chris's shack then they'd still be wrapped up in each other's arms, perhaps pleasuring each other rather than thinking of getting dressed. Last night, too. He could have taken his time, explored every curve, every plane on the beautiful body with tongue and hand if they'd had the walls of the shack to keep out the chill night air--and that pot-bellied stove to keep in the warmth.

He watched as Chris pulled on his dark pants, the movements still a little stiff but trying to hide this fact from Vin. Vin's thoughts ran on.

If they'd been lying in that large, comfortable bed then Chris wouldn't be all sore from sleeping on the hard ground. And what about when he finally got to take him? Chris lying on his back with his legs spread, ass raised would be damn uncomfortable for the man even with several blankets spread between him and the dry, packed earth. However, on that comfy bed...?

Chris sat down and helped himself to a mug of the coffee that had finished brewing. He looked at Vin with eyes full of trust.

"So, where abouts we headed?"

Vin's inner annoyance faded. Suddenly, the wide open spaces, and a winter spent roughing it in a cave in the cold mountains did not seem quite so appealing. He knew Chris would go with him, would accept the discomfort without complaint just to be with him but, dammit, he shouldn't have to. And what about the others? The men he had grown accustomed to seeing, to talking with, to laughing with? What about Nathan and Josiah, Buck, JD and Ezra? They were just as important to Chris.

Chris's shack might not be a palace but it had wide-open space all around it, and a few trees, and a pond for bathing and fishing in. The shack was placed dead center in that land so no one could build close by. A perfect retreat from the bustle of the town. Within its walls it would be warm in the winter, and on cold nights, and it would be cool in the summer. There was even a corral large enough for several horses and plenty of grazing land.

"Vin?"

Vin shook his head, realizing that he had been faraway. His eyes met Chris's, seeing the love shining softly there for him.

"Home."

"Home?"

Vin met the confused stare with a tender smile.

"We're going home, cowboy."

THE END


End file.
